


A Celebration of Christmas...or something

by MissTantabis



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell & Related Fandoms, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Oneshot, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 11:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8798947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTantabis/pseuds/MissTantabis
Summary: John Segundus, John Childermass and Vinculus prepare Starcross Hall for a Christmas celebration. Things do not go as planned and cause some funny and weird events...especially between two certain magicians.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bryonyashley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bryonyashley/gifts).



Snowflakes, carried miles from the mild and chilly wind, adhered to the window‘s glass. It was a large window, whose glass was frozen over. Through it one could see a large hall, which looked surprisingly empty, even though it contained a fireplace, a table, several chairs and even a comfy armchair. Still, the place felt oddly large with just three people in it.

One of them was a young, handsome, tall man with curly, brown hair and a pair of large, blue eyes. He was wearing a cosy, brown, velvet jacket (that must have cost him a fortune), a white shirt and fawn trousers. His hands trembled a bit as he was trying to wrap in several gifts in brown paper, muttering a few bad words under his breath.

The second person was sitting in the armchair. It was a small, slightly portly, ugly fellow with felted, brown hair, a long, uncombed beard and although now closed, alert, grey eyes. He was wearing a triangular, felt hat and a long, ragged cloak over his body. The upper body was naked as one could see weird, blue drawings on his pale skin through the gap in the open cloak. He was sleeping and snoring peacefully, although the sound he made sounded like a loud bear or a very oversized bumblebee.

The last man was sitting opposite to the first. He was a head taller and skinnier. His hair hang in long, black curls around his pale face. The eyes seemed to be cast in the shadows, which gave his face a slightly darker look. They were brown and glimmered from the wisdom they had gained from the many things they had seen. The man’s muddy boots laid on the table’s edge and his black cloak was slightly open. Next to him on the table laid a cylinder, in it a pair of leather gloves. The man had put his focus on an orange he was poking with cloves.

“I cannot seem to get it right!” Segundus angrily stared at the small box, he was trying to wrap in the brown paper. It was all crumpled by now and the box still was not properly packed. “Really, is it so much to ask that I do not want to use too much paper for this gift and make it still look good?” He made a frustrated huff and glared at the box as if this could cause it to apologize for its stubborn behaviour.

“Mr. Segundus”, Childermass replied calmly and looked up from his work, “I do not think that Lady Pole will be too offended if you use a bit more paper.” He calmly turned his half completed clove orange in his hand. Segundus groaned and put his hand on his forehead. “That may be, Childermass”, he replied, “But still I want this celebration to be perfect. I mean, it has been almost four months since Mr. Norrell and Jonathan Strange disappeared in the pillar of darkness. I believe, Mrs. Strange and Lady Pole will welcome some distraction after the last events.”

“They will”, murmured Childermass, “I am sure of it. But still you really put yourself to high standards. Maybe too high.” Segundus frowned. “Are you saying my mouth is making promises my hands cannot keep?”, he asked. Childermass stuck the last clove on his orange and placed it on the table. He gave an amused and gentle chuckle. “I am not saying that you are unreliable. But maybe you should not try too hard. We all want this celebration to be nice. We are not holding a soiree, John, so try to keep it simple, okay?”

Segundus huffed. He replied: “I know, Childermass. It is just...there is still so much to do. We have not even decorated the house properly. I want to bake some cookies. And somebody has to collect firewood.” Childermass grinned and lifted his clove orange. “I made this orange.” Segundus tilted his head and looked at the orange as if he meant to say _Are you serious right now?_.

Childermass sighed. He could see that this celebration was an important event for Mr. Segundus. Maybe more important then he liked to admit. He gently reached across the table and took John’s hand. “Calm down, Segundus”, he replied, “You are not alone. Vinculus and I will help you to prepare everything correctly.” Segundus looked down at the hand that enclosed around his fingers. Such a strong hand. A bit rough from Childermass’ work outside, but still so gentle and soft. Yet as he felt the blush creep up his cheeks, Segundus quickly withdrew his hand.

“Thanks, Childermass”, he replied, “I can definitely need the help.” “Correct”, responded the Yorkshireman and called a bit louder: “Right, Vinculus?” There was a grunt and yelp from the other man in the chair and Vinculus startled. Blinking and looking around, he stuttered: “I did not took the frying pan…” His eyes were still thick from sleep and his head darted around, before he focussed upon Childermass. “What did I miss?”, he muttered and rubbed his eyes.

The black haired man answered: “You and I will help Segundus in his preparation for the Christmas celebration.” “We do?” Vinculus blinked again and stretched himself, yawning, while his hands formed into fists. “Yes, we do”, replied Childermass, “You pick firewood and I decorate the house. Then Segundus can keep his focus on the presents and the cookies.”

Vinculus hopped out of the armchair. “Yes, Sir”, he said and made a mocking bow. “See you two later.” And the street magician jogged out of the house. Segundus voiced his concern: “Are you sure he can manage to pick some firewood? What if he does something stupid?” Childermass smiled reassuringly and patted Segundus’ shoulder. “As long as he does not fall into the next frozen lake, everything should be fine. Now you make your presents and cookies, and I decorate the house.”

The magician lady, which had owned Starcross Hall, many centuries ago had never celebrated Christmas. Thus Childermass and Mr. Segundus had gathered the few things from their homes that could be used for decoration. The clove orange was placed on the table next to dried walnuts. Cinnamon sticks were placed on a few window sill, which caused the entire room to smell very dry and spicy. Childermass even found a few fir tree sticks, that were tied together with a ribbon. He spent the next fifteen minutes hanging the branches on the walls and on the shelves.

Now there was only one object left. The mistletoe. Childermass thoughtfully weighted it in his hand. Where should he place that thing? His eyes darted around. They spotted Segundus, who now was working in the kitchen, preparing the paste for the cookies. Childermass’ gaze wandered upwards and rested upon the sill at the kitchen’s entrance. A wicked and amused smile filled his lips.

Slowly and cautiously as if not to startle the younger man Childermass snuck up on the door. He slowly placed the mistletoe on the door frame. Then taking a few steps back to make sure he was not directly under the mistletoe, the Yorkshireman called: “I am done, Mr. Segundus. Come out, so I can show you.” “Okay, Childermass”, Segundus replied, “Wait a moment. I have to clean my fingers of the paste.”

Segundus cleaned his hands with a napkin, before he came to the door and stopped. “You wanted to show me how you decorated the house.” Childermass smirked. He did not move. “There is one more thing”, he purred, “Look up.” Segundus’ gaze went upwards. As soon as his eyes found the mistletoe, he gasped. Face as white as chalk, the younger magician looked back at Childermass.

“You know what that means, right?”, the Yorkshireman said innocently. Segundus’ white face gained the colour of a ripe strawberry. “You… you did that on purpose!”, he stammered. “Of course I did”, Childermass admitted boldly and his grin widened. The eyes sparkled in amusement. “You cannot back out now, can you?”

Segundus gulped. For a brief moment it looked like he wanted to turn around and flee into the kitchen again. Then however, in a sudden burst of courage, Segundus took a step forwards and kissed Childermass. It was not really a kiss, but more of an awkward colliding. Their lips barely graced each other and Segundus let go immediately when he heard Vinculus, who returned with the firewood, call: “Childermass and Segundus, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

Childermass’ head jerked around and he glared at the other man. Vinculus grinned in amusement. There was a sudden shuffling of feet. Turning his head just in time, the Yorkshireman saw Segundus’ flustered face, before the man slammed the kitchen door shut before his nose and seemed like he refused to ever come out of it again.

Childermass sighed. He had only been trying to make some fun and ease Segundus’ mind. And now Vinculus’ action had ruined the moment. His cloak swooped around him as he marched past the street magician and growled: “Thank you, Vinculus.”

o0o

Clonk! The loud noise reached Childermass’ ear. He groaned and buried his face in the pillow. The Yorkshireman had been sleeping a pleasant and relaxing slumber, even though Segundus had been in his dream and his desire had haunted him, and now this clonk noise pulled him into the waking world. The Yorkshireman slowly sat up. _For the Raven King’s sake, what is this noise?_

It was a loud, rattling clangour. Under the clonk, clonk, clonk hoarse shouts mixed themselves: “Wake up, wake up, wake up!” Childermass ground his teeth. The voice sounded very familiar. The man kicked off his blanket and rose.

Childermass came out of his room, still wearing his simple, brown sleeping gown. A few doors next to him a sleepy and disturbed looking Segundus peaked his head out of his bed room. The big blue eyes laid in their caves and blinked every now and then as if they could not fight off the sleep entirely. “What is this?”, asked Segundus and yawned, “And what time is it?” He staggered towards Childermass, who strolled down the stairs.

There in the main lobby they came across a very peculiar sight and the source of the noise: Vinculus had gotten himself two frying pans and now was banging them against each other. While doing this, he walked around in circles and shouted: “Wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up!” Segundus pressed his hands against his ears. He called: “Vinculus, stop it! We are awake.” It was to no avail.

Childermass rolled his eyes and bellowed sharply: “Vinculus! It is Christmas and not April Fool’s Day! Put the pans down!” Vinculus stopped in his rampage and looked up at Childermass. He grinned. “Oh, you are awake.” And he placed the pans down.

“Yes, we are”, Segundus stated and rubbed his forehead. “You did not have to wake us in such manners.” Childermass looked at the younger magician and murmured: “Come. Let’s dress and then we have some breakfast.” John nodded with a yawn and marched upstairs to get his clothing. Childermass gave a short, angry look at Vinculus before he followed. The street magician scrowled, before he spat out. Petty men, both of them!

Ten minutes later, Segundus, Childermass and Vinculus sat at the table in the lobby and had breakfast, which contained ham, bread and boiled eggs. The tea they drank was a fruit tea, which had brewed a bit too long and now tasted so strongly of berries, it could numb your tongue. Vinculus was dipping his bread into the tea, turning it into sludge. Childermass was puffing at his pipe again and only interrupted it once in a while to take a sip from his tea or a bite from his bread.

Segundus was sitting between them and ate bread and butter. Childermass noticed the flicker in his eyes, the slight shiver in his hand. The younger man’s head duck between his shoulders and he generally seemed to make himself small.

Childermass blew a gust of smoke away. Its white figures curled and danced around. “You are nervous, John”, the brown haired man stated casually. Segundus startled. “How do you know? I mean, I am not, Childermass!” He tried to look offended, but that did not work. Childermass peeled his fake security off like he peeled the hull of an orange. “You do not have to be nervous”, he said and smiled, “Everything is prepared. What should go wrong?”

o0o

It was in the early afternoon when a chariot halted before Starecross Hall. Segundus and Childermass stood outside, expecting their visitors. The chariot was smaller then the one Norrell used to travel with and more streamlined. It was pulled by a sorrel mare with a long neck and a white patch on her head.

The butler that jumped of the coach box was a skinny fellow, wearing a stiff black suit. He was strikingly pale. Childermass was reminded of a chalk, wearing a uniform. The butler opened the chariot’s door and stopped besides it. Out of it climbed two women. Lady Pole and Arabella Strange looked more healthy and refreshed then Childermass recalled. There even was a form of joy in their eyes or was it just the pleasure of celebrating life again?

Lady Pole was a slender woman with a pretty, angel like face. Her maroon, long hair was open and she did not hide the grey strands that hung between the brown sea like the white crests that broke on the shore. She was wearing a fawn dress and a simple pair of silk gloves, over this outfit a long, fluffy, white fur coat.

Arabella Strange was a little bit taller then her friend Emma and had a beauty to herself like Artemis. Her black hair was hidden under a nice hat and neatly tied up. The black eyes under the bushy lids looked smart and even playful like a cunning cat. She was wearing a long, deep red dress, over it a brown scarf around her shoulders. Like Lady Pole she wore gloves.

The servant went into the chariot again and came out with a large, covered pot he carried towards the house. Childermass held the door open out of habit, while Segundus guided the two ladies in. “I am so happy you could make it”, he called as the servant in the background placed the pot on the cooker.

“Why should we not make it?”, asked Lady Pole and Arabella remarked: “Why, Mr. Segundus, Mr. Childermass, the house looks lovely.” Segundus became pink upon that remark. “Thanks”, he stammered. Childermass strolled over towards John. “Don’t be so humble, Segundus”, he murmured, “You did a good job.”

Segundus smiled weakly. After the ladies got properly welcomed, Vinculus shouted: “Okay! Can we now have the punch and cookies? I am starving.” Segundus swirled around, his face flashing in anger upon such a rude remark. Childermass glowered at Vinculus, silencing the street magician. “Come”, he mused, “This is supposed to be a celebration, is it not?”

The hosts and their guests gathered around the table. Segundus and Arabella carefully handed out cookies and the punch. There were no maids or servants in Starcross Hall, the gentleman did everything themselves. Soon the mood became more cheerful and relaxed. Segundus’ cookies were highly praised among the ladies, having the right mixture of sweetness and crispness.

Vinculus seemed to fall in love with the punch, because he was drinking a lot of it. Childermass did not blame him. The punch tasted sweet, of berries and mint and cinnamon, and its warmth was greatly welcomed in the cold of winter. Arabella told them about the time she and Lady Pole spent in Venice, while Segundus told them how they were trying to translate the Raven King’s letter on Vinculus’ body.

It was a heart filled reunion with many laughs and a generally shared joy. While neither one of them were alone, they all had grown attachted to one another in one way or the other. Childermass felt a bit closer connected to Mrs Strange then to Lady Pole, simply because he had seen her often. However there was a tension of hidden guilt and knowledge between him and Emma. The victim of the shot and the murderer. United at one table.

The evening was dawning and Childermass noticed that Segundus was sitting alone by the fire place, not partaking in the game of cards the other’s played. (Vinculus always said: “I think somebody is cheating” when they all knew he himself was the cheater.) The Yorkshireman thus stood up and approached Segundus.

“Why are you not partaking in the fun, John Segundus?” Childermass stopped behind the younger magician and looked down upon him. “After all we are all very happy and everything seems to be going great. So what is the matter?” Segundus stared into the fire. “Why should there something be the matter, Childermass?”, he asked, however he stopped and looked up when the elder one laid a hand on his shoulder.

Sighing, Segundus admitted: “I do not know. Something feels like it is not really right here...” Childermass furrowed his brows. “Could it be”, he asked out of the blue, “you do not like Vinculus’ presence during the holiday?” He had hit the nail on the head. Segundus buried his face in shame and asked with ground teeth: “How do you always know what I think?”

“I don’t”, admitted Childermass. His fingers softly trailed over Segundus’ neck and played with his slightly longer hair. “I am simply very good at reading people and drawing my own conclusion. It all comes with experience.” His hands kept caressing Segundus hair and his eyes seemed to fix the other one without really looking at him. There was a gentle hesitation in his moves. He still remembered the situation with the mistletoe. Segundus had reacted very offended in that scene. Childermass did not want it to happen again.

“Vinculus may not be the most civil man”, Childermass mused, “But he has a good heart. And he is my friend. I trust him, Segundus.” Segundus laughed weakly. “It is more that you can keep him in check”, he replied. He was not pulling away from the touch, much to John’s joy. Instead he even leaned into it.

“So why should Vinculus’ presence ruin this celebration?”, continued Childermass gently, “Christmas is there to be celebrated with your friends and loved ones.” Segundus nodded. “What am I, Mr. Childermass?” He suddenly turned his head and looked at the older man. “What am I for you?”

The question came suddenly. However Childermass fought his surprise down. His lips stretched into a gentle smile. “You are my friend, Mr. Segundus”, replied the former servant, “A very good friend.” He blinked. Was there water in his eyes? “Maybe even more.”

Segundus seemed to understand what he meant. His cheeks burned. “But is this not...unholy?”, he asked. His hand trembled as he carefully laid his fingers on Childermass’ stuppled cheek. The tips traced over the skin, sending a gentle chill down his spin. Why were they still hesitating? Was it obedience towards the church? Their own worry? Fear of heaven and hell? Fear of the future?

Childermass leaned over the couch and placed his hands on Segundus’ cheeks. He felt the younger magician’s fingers run down his neck and rest upon his shoulder. Christmas. The celebration to be with his friends and loved ones. Childermass smiled. “I guess, at this night we’ll get away with everything.” And with these words Childermass closed his eyes, leaned forwards and kissed Segundus.


End file.
